Chapter 38: Guilty

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Hiccup

My face paled immediately, my throat becoming much tighter as more and more seconds flew by like a tornado rampaging through a storm, as if I was trying to hold in a much needed sob. Tears formed in my tear ducts, managing to hold back the waterfall that was begging to come out in floods if I let it. There was no doubt about it - I was shocked. Knowing that this boy - of whom I had found on the shore, held in my own arms, flew with on Toothless - leading me to even catch a glimpse of his scar - was my-our boy. Stoick, not Matthew. How could I have been so stupid? So many emotions swam around my brain like lost fish, just waiting for the net or hook to fly down and catch them. Guilt, being one of them.

How could I not feel guilty? You would think, being his father, I'd know my own son as soon as I caught a glimpse of him. But I didn't. Instead, I just shrugged the very thought off as if it didn't matter at all. But boy it did. Then, giving up after only looking for him for 5 years, thinking he's dead. How could I think that about him? My own flesh and blood, and I give him up for dead just like that.

Maybe if I had looked harder I could've found him sooner. He obviously hadn't been that far away if he had washed up on our shores, could he? The fact that Astrids parents - Astreen and Tiran - knew him as well just didn't make sense. And as the name Matthew. Could they have had anything to do with Stoicks kidnapping? It's entirely possible. Or is it? This is so frustrating! Why couldn't we just have a normal family? Where my mum and dad were together, me and Astrid didn't have to worry about the many problems that faced us, where we could have been raising our son, as a happy family. But I guess happy just isn't in the viking handbook. For a while maybe it is possible, but it never lasts. Take it from my experience.

I have lost a lot of things in life. Respect, friendship, people - Mum, Dad, Astrid, then Stoick. It seemed that whatever I did nothing ever changed, my life kept running through this cycle of loss. But one things for sure, in some way or another, it always finds a way to come back to you. No matter whether they're dead or lost, they're always there. There's no mistaking it, I know.

Looking up and waking myself up with a quick shake of the head from my trance, I looked over towards Astrid and Matthe-Stoick. His name's Stoick. My body visibly relaxed as my dear wife uttered the few words I had been dying to hear since reality hit me like a lightning bolt to the head - of course not literally this time.

"It's him." A breathy sigh escaped my lips without notice, it looked like I had been holding it in for a while. Some sort of force seemed to tug at the ends of my lips as I watched Astrid drag the small boy into a breath quenching hug, crushing him against herself as if she never wanted to let go. "It's our son." She confirmed, hugging him harder.

As soon as I heard those final words, I took a weary step forward, ready to greet my son as, well, my son. But by the time I looked up for him, he was gone.

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